


Nothing New Under The Sun

by APennyworth0011



Series: Nothing New Under The Sun [1]
Category: Fallout 3, Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-16 11:17:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5826472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/APennyworth0011/pseuds/APennyworth0011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mac awakens several miles from the Capital Wasteland and Megaton, but his journey is still only just beginning. He has traversed almost the entirety of the Wasteland from the shores of California to the Capital Wasteland. What's in store for him? Only Lady Luck knows, and she isn't too Keen on letting him know much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Morning Bright eyes.

The warmth of the sun caused an uncomfortable heat to pool at his back. Sleep, whenever he got to it, was uncomfortable as it was out here in the wastes. Adding a morning sun with unrelenting heat and zero cloud cover, and the small bit of sleep he could manage quickly turned sour. His throat was dry, but he had to suffer through it until he got a few more miles behind him; that and he only had a few purified water capsules left and he wanted to use them when he was sure there wasn’t an immediate threat...so basically the next settlement that wasn’t full of cannibals or religious zealots. Ok, maybe he would have one before that. Lifting a hand up to block the sun, he performed a half hearted sit up and instantly regretted it. Sleeping on sand, dirt, rocks and the broken pieces of oldworld concrete wasn’t exactly the recipe for being well rested.

“Fuck me, runnin’.” The man groaned as he stretched his stiff neck. “Should only be a few more days before the Capital Wasteland comes up. Hopefully there’s a town or something between here and there where I can resupply.”

The muffled woof that came in response caused the man to smile a little. He wasn’t sure when the dog had joined him on his journey, but he knew it was about a week back when they’d began sharing the campsite. It must have been the dumb luck that had always been a part of his life, but the dog had been almost crucial in finding both useful items and serving as an early detection system. The smallest molerat nest or boatfly infestation, and the dog would steer clear. The four, well now three, bottles of purified water he’d found all because the mutt had a knack for finding things left behind before the bombs fell...at least that’s what Mac assumed. He’d been a part of the Enclave for most of his life, a low level operative; never good enough to get one of those fancy power armor suits, but just high enough to be trusted with kidnapping and the rest of the things that so many people feared the Enclave for. 

Then shit went to hell.

Then they told him to hold the line while they saved themselves.

That’s when Mac decided he wanted a change of post-apocalyptic scenery. 

The hike from the borderlands of the NCR wasn’t pretty, his time with the Raiders were more often than not the source of his insomnia, a big word from back when to explain why he couldn’t entirely sleep well. Not unless he’d taken a dose of Jet, but then...knowing where it came from, Mac wasn’t keen on taking it more than once or twice in a week. 

Standing from the makeshift lean to which was really just a piece of sheetmetal that had fallen against a crumbling ruin of concrete, Mac moved himself outside of the minimal shade the metal had given him. Unbuttoning his pants, the wanderer cleared his throat as he relieved himself. He heard some shuffling behind him and a curious whine as the dog also came around and joined in the ritual that had started since they’d linked up seven days prior.

“Don’t forget, you shit upwind. I smell that while I’m cookin and you’re getting another can of Cram.”

The amber eyes of the dog looked at him and Mac could have sworn there was a look of, ‘please, you wouldn’t have even made it this far,’ before the dog shook himself of the dirt from where he’d slept and trotted off to finish his morning business. 

Mac shook his own head before gathering a few broken pieces of wood and dry grass to start a small fire. The meat they were able to find out here wasn’t the best, and he was sure he was always one step closer to rad poisoning with every bite, but Mac would at least enjoy the pleasure of some mirelurk meat, somewhat charred, but more edible than the slightly goupy mix that usually came from the shelled crustaceans. Taking a knife, Mac stabbed into the top of a dog food can and expertly worked the edge, careful not to cut himself with the can lid or the knife. Stabbing the blade into the ground once he was done, Mac left the can close to the small fire to let it heat up a bit. 

Taking a breath he walked back to the small space where he’d spent the night and slipped his boots on. Rugged and built with pre war tech, the boots were still comfortable even after trecking almost three thousand miles in about six months. His hair, no longer having the luxury of getting a haircut whenever was needed, had grown and been shorn as best as he could with the knife he had. Luckily, sharpening the knife was a small chore that he took joy in. It kept the last resort weapon sharp, but also allowed him to keep his face moderately shaved. When passing settlements, normally, those who looked a bit more like a normal person weren’t shot on sight.

Sure he’d walked away from plenty of the settlements as they screamed for help while raiders took what they wanted...but hey, he’d gotten what he needed so who cared right?

Those thoughts were brushed aside as he grabbed his leather coat and fit the jacket on without closing the zipper. Next to that, the same flak jacket that he’d used back west came on, the sappi plates in the front and back pouches miraculously still viable despite the rounds he’d taken right before his imprisonment. It was another benefit of having worked for the Enclave for so long. The training, the equipment...of course, Mac could have gone out with one of those fancy power armors but the way he saw it, he was already stomaching having to use the equipment on his back, he didn’t need another damn thing that was going to get him shot at. 

Besides, fusion cores were really fuckin rare to come across.

No, the flak jacket and assault pack carried the ammunition and supplies he needed for himself and the dog that had decided to follow him around. He had a holster for his modded 10mm, the light scoped rifle that he had strapped to the top of the assault pack and the assault rifle that he carried at the ready almost always. Two grenades were in their pouches at the sides of his vest at all times and he always practiced his speed reloads. That wasn’t to say he still looked like Enclave or any of their lackies. No, he’d taken an extra arm piece for his left arm and strapped two hardened plates to his thighs. Raiders were insane, but somehow they understood more protection for parts that bled was a smart way to go. They were shit for aiming, but had a knack for getting lucky shots more often than not. 

Mac didn’t want that kind of scare again.

The smell of the cooking mirelurk brought him back out to the open, with the dog laying with his head on his forelegs just looking at the food that was being cooked. “Yeah, yeah. It’s about done.” Mac offered as he reached down and carefully removed the dog food from the proximity of the fire and placed it in front of the dog. Turning back to the piece of mirelurk steak, he flipped it over to give it an even cook...or as even as he could get it and noticed out of the corner of his eye that the dog hadn’t touched the dog food. 

“You know, some mongrel out here would kill for some good ole fashioned dog food.”

The lazy whoof that escaped the dogs snout caused Mac to raise an eyebrow. He’d ran into packs of dogs and they were almost as bad as feral ghouls. And here in all this damn nuclear wasteland was the one dog that liked to give attitude and had a preference for what it ate? Just his damn luck. Cutting the mirelurk steak in half he tossed it at the dog, who stood up happily and took to the cooked meat voraciously. Mac, watched for a moment before taking his half and eating it. He’d read how a lot of bottom feeding fish in the old world never tasted that great unless they were dipped in a vat of hot oil and, ‘fried’, seemed that mirelurk’s would probably benefit from the same kind of cooking method. Still, it was food. Looking back at the dog, who was now nose deep in the can of dog food, Mac chuckled. “You little shit.”

But that was the extent of the annoyance. For the moment, the two were somewhat dependent on each other, though Mac was sure if he died the dog would be just fine especially now that they were much closer to established settlements as opposed to small camps struggling to survive. Standing and kicking sand into the small fire to smother the flame, Mac turned and walked back towards his small sleeping area, rolling up the worn sleeping back and attaching it to the bottom of his assault pack. Scanning the horizon, he picked out where the broken blacktop stretched into the Horizon, grabbed his assault pack and started walking due east, with the sound of animal nails clicking against the patches of cement and road. 

For the first time in months his Pipboy gave off a low beep, indicating that there was some type of signal relatively close by. Bringing the contraption up to scroll to the frequency list, sure enough, there was a very short list of available radio frequencies. He decided against tuning into it, still too far into the actual wasteland and no area close enough for refuge to risk letting other people hear him coming. The dog barked and took off at a slow trot, probably smelled something edible. There was plenty of distance between here and the Capital Wasteland proper, no need to get too worried...yet. 

Luckily, however, the sound of a Bramin being annoyed by another four legged animal came from around the bed of rubble. A trader with two caravan guards. While Mac didn’t have much in terms of trade, he had plenty of caps. Taken off of dead bodies and raiders through his trek across this damn wasteland. Still, he would be happy for a map with the major settlements pointed out...which he would then manually input into the Pipboy. His luck was shit, sure, but hopefully it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch for this trader to part with whatever map he might have had. 

“Eyes off the merchandise, pal.”

Mac’s gaze shifted from the Bramin to the caravan escort. The cold steel of Mac’s eyes locking with the hardened gaze of a woman who’d seen plenty of death and had dealt out more than her own fair share. Still, it wouldn’t take long for Mac to shoot the life out of her shit brown eyes. 

“Sorry, been a few months since I’ve seen a caravan. Almost forgot what Bramin looked like, the shit seems the same though.”

The woman’s jaw clenched but she stayed where she was as the caravan leader walked around the head of the Bramin with his hands up. “Ok, ok. Plenty of other hostiles in this damn wasteland for travelers to be at each others throats.” Turning to Mac, he continued. “So, been traveling for a while eh? We were looking at heading out West ourselves, lucky we ran into each other, I reckon?”

Mac kept his eyes on the woman for a moment before turning his gaze back to the leader. “‘Suppose it is a bit of luck. What are you tradin?”

“All sorts, mostly ammunition and odds and ends. C’mon take a look at what I got.”

“Listen, I’ve got what I need for ammunition. If you have a map of the local area, I’ll take that and if you can circle out the major settlements so I know where to go. I’ll be happy to take it off your hands.”

The trader looked at Mac up and down and twirled the lone piece of razorgrain that hung from his lips. “I got a map, sure. Twenty Caps, another thirty for me to point out where the settlements are.”

Mac slung his rifle on his left shoulder and tilted his head to the side, eyebrow going up in sync with the motion. “There isn’t a piece of damn paper worth fifty caps. Good luck to you, careful once you cross the Mississippi, there’s a super mutant has claimed a good portion of that area as his. Try and go around rather than through.”

The dog was seated in front of the Bramin, ears perked as it looked between the two faces that were staring back. Dog whined a little before finally moving over to the guard. The woman, looked down to stare at the dog for a moment which caused the mutt to tilt its head at her. A chuckle escaped as she bent down and started to scratch it behind the ear. The closed eyes of approval were all she needed to know. “You keeping him out of trouble?” She asked the dog quietly, a low wuff was the answer as she stopped scratching and stood up. “Take care little guy.”

 

 

The trader shook his head, “Alright, fair enough. Fifteen Caps and I’ll even point out places to avoid unless you happen across some fancy power armor.”

“Reasonable enough.” Mac said and produced the agreed amount of caps. One one of the many satchels that were strapped to the Bramin, the main opened up the map and with what looked like a broken pencil, started circling the settlements as well as some of the more lethal areas. 

“This isn’t all that’s out there, but it’s what I’ve experienced and have heard. You’ll want to stay on this road, it’ll take you straight to Megaton. There’s a vault close by, but I’ve never been. Biggest settlement is Rivet city, but it’s clear on the other side of the Potomac, that’s the river right here. These circles are some spots where super mutants seem to congregate, so watch your step.”

Mac nodded and folded up the map, stuffing it into one of the smaller pouches. “Safe travels.” Mac mumbled as the dog barked and trotted over to where Mac and the trader had been standing. 

“And to you, stranger.”

Once Mac was far enough away, he produced the map once more and began to upload the points on his pipboy as best as he could. Near as he could tell, Megaton was still a day or two away and Rivet City even further. Mac’s goal was the Commonweatlh up North unless something kept him here in the Wasteland...and he had the strangest feeling that he would be taking some odd memories with him from here like he had back West.


	2. New places, New Faces.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac and Dog make it to Megaton. 
> 
>  
> 
> 0 Chill.
> 
> Nora? -eyebrows-

Mac heard the incessant jabbering of the Protectron outside of the settlement called Megaton a full three miles before he’d really gotten the chance to get a look at it. Of course, he had arrived in the outskirts of the area at nightfall, and the amount of molerats that were present let him know that there was good reason to stay alert and maybe shack up in one of the old houses he’d passed up on the way in. From his vantage point, however, he could see that the settlers had at least been somewhat proactive in building their small town. The only entrance Mac could see was right in front, but there was an over watch post just above it and as far as Mac had seen, that Protectron did a lot more than just talk whenever a giant ant or worse came by. 

He felt the shuffling beside him and chanced a moment to glance out of the corner of his eye. ‘Dog’, as Mac had come to call him, was scooting up carefully. An eyebrow raised as the dog looked at Mac, and then back out into the wasteland as if knowing that there was something out there to observe. Dog was half right, as always. “You want to take a look?” Mac asked as he handed the scope out to Dog. The canine whuffed and attempted to nuzzle it and Mac humored him by adjusting it to the dogs left eye and pointing it at Megaton. “We gotta head there tomorrow. No funny business and don’t draw too much attention to yourself.” The dog quietly sneezed, well quietly for a dog anyway, and laid its head between its forelegs. “Yeah, I know. Big bad Mac taking all the fun away. We aren’t staying long. I want to get some supplies and maybe explore Vault 108 if they’re still alive. Maybe get this pipboy updated.”

Dog just looked at Mac and closed his eyes, asleep in less time than it took for Mac to slip the scope back on his rifle. He needed ammunition. They both needed a good rest. Two, three days max and they would make their way to a few spots Mac wanted to inspect…if they were luckily not over ran with super mutants. The Capital Wasteland had more mutated animals than any they’d encountered on the way in. Between boatflies, giant ants, radscorpions and so on; he was surprised he had enough ammunition left to get him this far inland. Even scavenging off of old raiders or long dead wanderers, there wasn’t much to find. 

What was worrisome, however, was the available radio broadcasts…one of which he could tell was Enclave propaganda. Mac had heard enough through his journey east to know that the Lone Wanderer had dealt with them and had some healthy dealings with the Brotherhood of Steel. It was fine and dandy, but that didn’t mean that that kind of peace was going to last. If anyone understood the Enclave like he did, they wouldn’t have assumed they had been destroyed. No, they were lurking in the shadows waiting for the right time. They thought that the Poseidon Rig had been the only center of power? What a joke. Mac might not have known all the inner workings, but he knew enough. 

War never changes.

With that cheery thought, Mac settled into his sleep roll. It was only a few hours to daylight, and he wanted to get to Megaton before the unseen eyes followed him all the way there…even if he could see them in his sleep.

 

“Howdy, Pardner. Welcome to Megaton!”

The robotic voice unnerved him. Dog of course trotted up to the old Protectron and sniffed at the metal legs before wandering on into the mouth of the entrance. Mac nodded at the robot, unsure if someone was in direct control, or if they had been happy to leave the robot to its duty of protecting them from outside their walled city. Mac would have understood that. Technology was a great thing, it would take a lot to part with the pip boy on his arm, but that same technology is what caused this shit. And, upon entering the city proper saw the massive nuke in the crater at the center of it all. 

“Go fucking figure.”

Holstering the modified 10mm in its hip holster, he watched as Dog took off. So much for low key. Walking further into the cratercity he saw how they had built up around the bomb and wondered if they understood that that unexploded weapon could kill them and everyone in the vicinity of a few miles in an instant. Judging by the people walking by it and laughing, Mac assumed they didn’t. From the corner of his eye he saw a gentleman with an overcoat/duster stand from his chair, unslinging the combat shotgun from his shoulder and began making his way towards Mac. The instinct to reach for his pistol almost won the argument in his mind before he decided to keep walking. If the man had an intention to talk to or intimidate Mac, he would do so where Mac would be able to push back a little. 

At the bottom of the crater there was a tired, but happy woman working at what appeared to be a restaurant shop. The gurgle in his stomach reminded him of the last purified water he’d consumed the previous day and the last bit of cooked Cram he’d shoveled down his gullet. Unslinging his assault pack and laying it on the ground, Mac took up one of the stools in front. The woman gave him a tired smile and pushed off the wall to speak to him. “Well, morning stranger. What we got is on the board, we’ll cook as needed. Prices are fixed and thanks to some fortune we’ve got a workin fridge so cold Nuka-cola. What’ll ya have?”

The frankness was a good sign, it meant they’d dealt with enough people passing through that they weren’t entirely isolated and were probably okay with a bit of lighthearted brevity. “If you’re cookin is any good as the items offered then I’ll have two orders of Iguana on a stick.” Mac felt a light tug at his boot and looked down to see Dog sitting obediently with his paw resting on Mac’s boot. “Make it three.” Mac said with a chuckle and received a tail wag in thanks. 

“Three’s comin, you want a Cola with it?” The woman asked as she started up the fire.

“Sure.” Mac murmured as he fished out the fifteen caps for the meal. “So, how long you people been down here?” Mac asked and caught sight of the earlier man walking down the same crater slope he had, eyes fixed on where Mac was seated.

“Long enough, my husband says. I’d say Moira is more that alley if you want some information about the area. I’m just here to feed those that need feedin.”

The woman produced the Nuka-cola and laid it in front of Mac as the man in the duster now was directly walking towards him. The instinct to pull his own weapon from its holster on his leg fought against the logical side of his brain that was screaming at him that the man was probably just doing his job. A settlement this size probably attracted more attention from raiders than they wanted, and a person like Mac fit the bill for a Raider; especially if he was asking questions he should have already known the answers to. A plate with three iguana kabobs appeared in front of him and he proceeded to take one, and drop the bits down to Dog; however Mac was still keenly aware of the footsteps that were heading straight for him.

“New around here?” The deep voice asked. Mac looked up and slightly turned his head to look at the darker man in the duster. 

“A bit.” Mac answered as he took one hot piece of Iguana off and bit into it. The need to feel the weapon at his hip in his hand was almost overwhelming.

“Names Lucas Simms, Mayor and Sherriff of Megaton. We get drifters comin through here and there and Raiders always want to try and find a way in. You’ll understand if I’m a little nervous when an armed man comes through.”

Mac relaxed a little, but not so much as to seem overly submissive to the man’s bravado. “Sure the pleasure is all mine, Mr. Simms. Name is Mac, I’m just passin through. Was lookin to trade for some supplies and then head on out.”

“How long.” It should have been a question, but it seemed more like a verbal contract.

Mac popped the nuka-cola open and laid the bottle cap on the make shift table, a bit of a tip for the restaurant owner, and took a decently long drink. “A couple days.” Mac answered after swallowing.

“Two.” Lucas said, eyes never breaking from Mac’s.

“Around there, sure.” Mac replied as he took another sip from the Cola.

“Wasn’t exactly a question, friend.” Lucas said, readjusting his grip on the combat shotgun for emphasis.

Mac smirked and took a look around at the little town. “Odd title to be throwin around when you’re basically shoving that shot gun in my face. Have I done something illegal in your town? Last I heard paying for food was a good way to be left alone in a settlement.”

There was a long pause before Lucas shouldered his weapon. “Guess you have a point. Been too many Raider attacks recently, guess I let that make me a little jumpy. Sorry.”

Mac barely shrugged his shoulders, but his eyes still never left Lucas. Dog had left his meal in the dirt and had silently made his way around the stool Mac had been sitting on to place himself directly in between the unknown man and Mac. “Guess its natural, considering your recent run ins. And no worries, I’ll be out of your hair soon enough. I’m headed North.”

“Well, if you need supplies, Moira runs our supply store. I’ve got a weapons shop if you need anything.”

“I’ve got need for some ammo, but don’t have the caps. If you need things fixed I’m pretty good with my hands.” Mac said turning to the last bits of Iguana, Dog doing the same. 

“If you’re serious, some of our water lines need some repairs. Might keep you here an extra day or two. I can resupply what you need ammunition wise, you fix our pipes. Deal?” Lucas put his hand out. Mac quirked an eye brow but reached out and shook his hand.

“An extra day or two isn’t a worry for me. Long as no one’s pointing a gun at my back while I do the work.” The smirk across his face seemed like he was joking, but there was a very subtle threat behind it.

“Don’t worry. Figured you would have started something the minute I stood up had you wanted to do some damage here. Find me up in the same place or around town once you’re done. If you want something a little stronger than that Nuka-cola, Nora’s up that way is where you want to go. Probably find a bed to rent for a few days too.”

Mac just nodded as Lucas let the handshake go and started back up the way he had come down. “Sorry bout that, didn’t mean to cause a scene.” He added to the woman who’d stood off to the side while the two men had their little pissing contest.

“Lucas is just doin his best to keep us safe. Last time some unknown came through here it was the Lone Wanderer, and things definitely changed for us then.” She said, with a bright smile.

“Well, from what I’ve heard they’re a lot better of a person than I’ve been. Thanks for the food.” Bending down he picked up his pack and started following the signs for Moira’s Supply and found it quite easily. The angle that the scaffolding was placed was a bit obnoxious, but it wasn’t unmanageable. Making his way up he also saw the problems with the pipes. If they didn’t have some kind of welding machine, all he would be able to do is what had been done before, patch it up and hope for the best. 

Walking up to the supply store, a redheaded woman came walking out almost as soon as he’d touched the door. “Oh, dear me. Almost ran you over there didn’t I! Sorry. Did you need something? Nothing but the best odds and ends here!”

Her exuberance could be a balm for some, for Mac it had immediately targeted his temper and he took a moment to laugh it off and nod. “Yeah, was looking for some traveling supplies if you have them. Food, water.” 

“Sure, come on and take a look. Don’t mind the guy sitting down, he’s there to make sure no one steals my stuff. I’ll be right back, ok?” And just like that she scurried off towards where Lucas had told him a watering hole could be found. Taking a deep breath he walked in, Dog following after and immediately spotted the man the woman, Moira he assumed, had warned him about. The man had the look and feel of a Raider, or at least one that had been a raider. Mac’s hand dropped to the holster as the man looked up from where he was seated. 

“Don’t get pretty there, stranger. You shoot that thing off and everyone in this settlement will come in here ready to shoot you. I’m old, so just don’t take anything until she gets back alright?”

Mac seemed uneasy, Dog with him. “It’s alright boy. We’ll get what we need and head out.”

Moira came walking back through the door moments later with a bag full of something in her right hand. “Sometimes you gotta do some things yourself, round here. Now, what’d ya need hun?”

The cheeriness did nothing to calm Mac’s nerves, but he managed a tight smile. “Just look for some Brahmin Meat, some water and some crisps if you have em.”

“Got plenty of food to buy, how much of each?”

“Just a few steaks, if you’ve got purified water I’ll take eight. Just tryin to resupply to last till Rivet City.”

“Oh, I don’t have cooked steaks.”

“That’s alright. Just get me a few slices of steak, I can cook em myself.”

Mac kept glancing over at the guard even if the man didn’t bother with Mac. The overwhelming need to get out was starting to press in on Mac and he could feel Dog nuzzling his hand to give him something else to focus on. Absently, Mac took out his pouch of caps and produced the amount needed for the transaction, even if he probably should have waited until he was done with his repairs for Lucas before trying to pay for anything. His throat was dry but the woman didn’t say much else, wrapping the meat in some old paper and getting the eight purified water bottles, larger than he was used to carrying but the lack of food in his pack gave room for the water. 

Mac could hunt for his own food, the steak he wanted to dry out and make jerky out of…if he made it out of this fucking room. 

“There you go, if you need anything else please stop by before you leave!”

 

“Yep.” Mac grunted as he placed the bag on the table and put the water and meat into the bag. Before the woman could say another word, Mac was out the door. He took a few moments to gather his wits, leaning against the now hot metal of the store wall. Mac hadn’t seen a Raider in weeks, whether luck or the dog at his feet having to do with it, he wasn’t sure. Still, his reaction to the man in the store told him enough of how Mac should deal with seeing them. At least here, those who seemed to be wanting away from that life were, at least on the surface, doing just that. 

Getting away.

A quiet bark snapped him out of it.

“Yeah, a bed would be pretty good wouldn’t it?”

The answering tail wag got Mac to push off the wall and head further up, towards a sign that was clearly scratched out. The original, Moriarty Saloon, was replaced with a simple Nora’s. Taking a deep breath, he opened this door and was welcomed with the familiar smells of alcohol and the musty smell of rust. Light fought its way through several of the holes in the ceiling, but not enough to hurt the eyes. The feeling in the bar was one he enjoyed…’leave me the fuck alone’, seemed plastered on everyone’s face there. Mac could feel himself coming down from the wave of panic and, now the second redhead he had seen since his treck from the West, was on the other side of the bar top. She barely lifted her head up as she cleaned off some bottles and wiped the surface with an even dirtier rag.

“My kind of place.” Mac murmured to himself as he walked further in.

The woman finally looked up and eyed him up and down. A feeling of both confidence mixed with a slight insecurity at the scrutiny in her gaze was confusing but welcome. “Well, been a long time since I’ve seen trouble walkin on two feet.” The woman stated as she draped the dishrag over one of her shoulders. A bark came from under her field of view and she smirked. “Make that six feet then.” Dog barked again, happily it seemed and wandered over toward the radio that was quietly playing some music. 

“Got a place where I can put my things down and not have them missing by morning?” Mac asked, incredulous as to how insulting the question might have come across. 

“What kinda business do you think I’m running here, stranger?” The woman asked, clearly the owner.

“A bar.” Mac answered unwaveringly. 

The woman held her stern look for a moment before laughing. “Guess I can’t argue with that. Got a spot upstairs, cost ya fifty a night. Names Nora, let me know if you need anything.” Her tone, however, suggested a whole lot more than what she had said.

He gave her a half-hearted salute before following her up the stairs. There were a few rooms on the second floor, and she led him to the one that was at the back of the bunch. Nestled in the corner. It wasn’t where he preferred, but he wasn’t expecting to have to shoot his way out of this little town any more than he was expecting the Enclave to show up and take him back West. She opened the door and walked him in. It was a simple room but Mac didn’t need much, there was enough room for him to place his pack, stack his rifles and plenty of Room for Dog to lay wherever he wanted. The bed looked serviceable, if not clean. 

“You know there was a time when I’d be the one sharing that bed with you if you had the caps.” Nora mentioned off hand as Mac entered the room and set his pack on the bed. She leaned up against the door and waited for Mac to turn around. “You look like enough trouble I might even consider offering it before you leave.”

Mac gave her a bit of a smirk before chuckling. “I’m only hear for a few days, Red. Gonna patch up some of the pipes around town for some ammo. Besides, doubt I’ve got the caps you’d charge.”

“Oh, honey. This one would be on the house.” She said with a wink. “I’ll let you get settled in, if you want a drink come on down.”

While the temptation was certainly there, and the reality of Mac taking her to bed was more than likely assured, he still had a moment pause where he wondered if being the latest in a long line of wasteland irradiated men to come through here would be a great idea. Granted, he had no real place to talk; Nora had been a working girl before he’d arrived sure, but something had happened and now she was the boss. He couldn’t argue it away and by the way the place looked relatively clean and looked like it had enough business come through, that Nora had the sense of a good woman. 

Shame he wouldn’t stay long enough to see it. 

Mac looked up from his seat on the bed and saw Dog sitting there, head cocked to one side regarding his traveling companion. Mac had long since accepted he didn’t own the mutt, and was very happy to call him a traveling partner versus property. “Don’t worry boy, we aren’t staying long. I promise you that.”

Dog’s face broke into a panting grin and trotted over to Mac, nuzzling his snout under Mac’s hand on his right leg. One of those genuine smiles broke on Mac’s face as he pet Dog. “While we’re here might as well do an inventory, see what we really need and what we don’t. Maybe head out to this, ‘Super Duper Mart’, and see if we can’t find something worth hauling. Gotta cook up these steaks and make some jerky anyway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp that's that.
> 
> I'm sorry for all the interaction, just trying to get a better hold for how he deals with other people.
> 
> And people with boobs now that he's been alone for quite some time. -insert lenny-

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed my foray into the Fallout verse. 
> 
> Mac is an ass, but with reason. I hope to explain that in the next chapter or two.
> 
> Lets follow the little white rabbit, yes?


End file.
